


A Hazy Shade of Winter

by Milliadoc_Brandybuck



Series: The Umbrella Academy: A Hazy Shade of Winter [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Christianity, F/M, Invisibility, Losing Religion, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Prequel, Religious Upbringing, The Children Hargreeves Didn't Get, The Other Children, The Umbrella Academy - Freeform, Themes of Defying Religion, faith - Freeform, number eight - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliadoc_Brandybuck/pseuds/Milliadoc_Brandybuck
Summary: On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible. He got seven of them.But what happened to the other 36?Faith Eve Solomon, or as she is now known: Vydia Winter: is a journalist who specialises in 'out of the ordinary' crime. She always seems to get the details no other newspaper can.She is also one of the 36 children born on 1st October 1989 whom Reginald Hargreeves failed to adopt.After being brought up in a heavily religious household Faith began to show signs of supernatural abilities at aged sixteen following the death of her parents. She is alone in the world. So what happens when she begins to discover who she is or about the powers that she possesses? Will she use them for good?
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Umbrella Academy: A Hazy Shade of Winter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690510
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	1. Part One: In the Beginning

_On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began._

Maria Solomon was one such woman.

At the age of twenty-six Maria lived a simple life.

Before this, her family line stretched back to the first Italian immigrants to flee to New York City in America, and since then they had lived literally nowhere else. All that remained of her heritage was the size of her nose and her passion for using herbs in her cooking. For the majority of her life Maria had been content to live within the constraints of her family home in uptown Queens. She was a good girl and was saving herself for her husband, whenever she chose to take one. She would read Bible passages to her many siblings and would pray every night. She knew nothing else… until she turned twenty. That was when she had met Jacob Solomon.

At the time Jacob was a young man of twenty-three and had just finished his training to become a Catholic Priest. He was set on his path… until he met Maria. He never did take the cloth, as he had found everything he could ever want in her. However, their love did not sit well with his family, nor hers, and so they fled the city and the country that they both had called home. The young couple, very much in love but also very aware of the sin in their unmarried union, made for North of the border, Canada, to marry. For three years they lived in wedded bliss together, finally able to give themselves to each other wholly and completely. Maria was a woman of God and would spend her afternoons reading the Bible to children of the neighborhood whilst Jacob took the teachings of Joseph and worked as a carpenter by day and provided for those in need at night. They were happy, but for whatever reason God seemed unwilling to give them a child.

For years they tried.

And then, miraculously, on 1st October 1989 Maria suddenly went into labor.

Neither Maria nor Jacob wished to question it, for this was surely the will of God for their continued faith in Him.

Faith Eve Solomon was born at noon, a healthy baby girl with her mother’s nose.

For several hours they were happy. Those around the young couple asked open questions and wondered as to why labor had come on so suddenly, but they brushed it off.

“You do not question the will of God.” Jacob told them feverishly as he shut the door on the fifteenth well-wisher to ask the question. He wanted to be alone with his new little family.

But this would not last so long, as an hour later came another knock at the door.

“Can they not leave us alone?” Maria begged as she cradled her newborn daughter in her arms and Jacob left her once more to answer the front door.

The voice that came from the hall was no one Maria recognized.

“Jacob?” She called after he did not resurface and the voice continued. “Who is it?”

A pause, and then Jacob appeared in the doorway with a gentleman in tow.

_Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible._

“This is Sir Reginald Hargreeves, my love,” Jacob said with a slightly ashen expression, “He has offered to buy our baby.”

“What?!” Maria demanded incredulously as the strange man removed his hat and bowed his head. “Is he crazy?”

“I am not crazy, madam,” Reginald said coolly as he replaced his hat, “I am simply making you an offer for the miraculous child you hold in your arms.”

“My daughter.” Maria said hotly.

“Are you equipped for such a child?” Reginald looked around himself at the small and ramshackle house. “You were not prepared for it. Why not take my offer, rebuild your home and try for a child in a few years when you are good and ready?” He spoke quite seriously, though Jacob looked at him for signs of him joking. There were none.

“You can’t be serious.” Jacob said.

“I am quite serious,” Reginald said in what was indeed a serious tone. “I wish to buy the child. Name your price.”

Jacob floundered, looking from Reginald to his wife and back again.

“She’s not for sale.” Maria said defiantly.

“You cannot provide…” Reginald started, but Maria interrupted him.

“We can provide love and faith and that is all she needs.”

“Well…” Reginald went to argue but could see that he was outnumbered. He sighed and dug into the breast pocket of his tailcoat, pulling out a card and handing it to Jacob. “Should you change your mind, this is where you may find me.” 

Jacob took the card as Reginald gave Maria one last look. “I will see myself out.” Reginald turned on his heel and with that was gone.

_He got seven of them._

And Faith Eve Solomon was not one.

Instead she would be raised as an ordinary human being with nothing special about her. For sixteen years she would be kept in the dark about the circumstances of her birth save when her parents would refer to her as their ‘miracle child’. They would never have anymore children, and would prevent her from making friends to make way for biblical study. She would grow up lonely and bitter. The Solomon family moved to Toronto within the first year of her life to silence the gossip. She would never know who she was. That is, until her parents died mysteriously and, whilst going through their things, she would find the business card of a man named Reginald Hargreeves. 


	2. Part Two: The Song of Solomon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith begins to explore who she really is, and discovers the mystery surrounding her birth, the very mystery her parents kept hidden from her.   
> And she loses faith for good.

**_Toronto, Canada, 2005_ **

The funeral was short and to the point. After all, there were no bodies to bury. Not unless they dredged the entirety of the lake and that, to their estranged families, seemed too much of a faff. So instead they allowed the church to hold a memorial. Not that many people came. Outside of the church Maria and Jacob Solomon were not very well liked.

Ever since they had moved to Toronto ten years ago in an attempt to silence the gossip that surrounded them and their six year old daughter at the time they had struggled to make friends. Sure, the church welcomed them, the church always did, but they didn’t find family here. Jacob had worked as a Sunday school teacher whilst Maria enacted her role as stay-at-home mother and wife. They kept to themselves and that was how they liked it. Nobody could gossip about the mysterious circumstances of their daughter’s birth because nobody knew them, and that was how they liked it. Nobody ever suspected for a moment that the upstanding Mr and Mrs Solomon were being neglectful and emotionally abusive to the daughter they seemed to treasure so much. In fact nobody but Faith knew what they were really like, how possessive her mother was. It was suffocating. Faith didn’t go to school, she was kept at home and taught by her mother so as best to practice the faith. She had no friends and spent her life feeling invisible. She was told she was a miracle child and expected to simply roll over and believe it. She was sixteen before she even knew the truth: and she found it out after her parents were dead.

For years now Faith had started to grow disillusioned with her parents stoic beliefs in God and a higher power. She could see flaws in His plan and began to search for alternatives in the late nights when she could steal some private time on the laptop. She always wiped the history but she could not forget what she read. She knew there were other options, and now she was sixteen and an orphan she was free to follow them. She couldn’t have planned her parents car popping a tyre and driving into the lake, but here they were.

And she didn’t know how to feel.

She supposed she must have loved her parents once. They had provided for her, it was true, and she had wanted for nothing... but she yearned for everything. For the first time she was free to go where she wanted, do what she wanted... she just had to get the child services off her back. She had gone from one cage and she didn’t need another.

“Just tragic.” Said Matilda with a shake of her head. Matilda was one of the church elders and she stayed behind to help Faith sort through her parents things as per their will: all wordly possessions were to go to the church, and Matilda’s grubby, grabby hands were more than ready. Matilda had spent most of the day bursting into fits of tears at the loss of ‘Jacobi and Marie’ so that the church would know she was genuine. Faith knew she had just hung back to rifle through the few belongings of the couple and keep what she wanted before turning the rest over. Faith didn’t care. She was going to be out of here as soon as she could. She had been staying with Matilda in the week since her parents death but tonight would be the night the childrens services came to take her to the group home. Or so they thought.

“Keep whatever you want, Matilda.” Faith said kindly, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “It’s all for the church after all.”

“You’re too kind, too kind.” Matilda clucked as she rifled through Jacob’s papers. Faith got to her feet and shook her head. “Where are you going?”

“To see if there’s anything else.” Faith lied fluently as she headed down the corridor. Her tongue was probably black by now, but she didn’t care. She just wanted out.

And it wasn’t a complete lie. There was one more thing at the back of her parents’ wardrobe... the duffle bag that Faith would be packing with her own few belongings ready to run away.

She would have to be quick, Matilda wouldn’t leave her alone for long. She didn’t know where she was going but she knew it was far away from here, this small town full of abusive memories. Faith stood on tiptoes to tug the bag. It was stuck on something, but a heave brought it loose. She ducked as the bag brought with it a paper folder that hit the carpet and burst.

“Dang.” Faith whispered to herself, dropping to her knees in her black memorial dress to gather the sheets of paper before Matilda registered the noise. Her feverish fingers swept over the papers as she stuffed them back together... and then she froze as she read her name.

It was her birth certificate. It was the first time she had ever seen it: FAITH EVE SOLOMON, October 1st 1989\. That wasn’t right. Her parents had always celebrated her birthday on the 2nd. Were they mistaken? Or was it deliberate. She cast her frowning eyes over the rest of the documents, picking them up one by one: a selection of documents regarding her birth and the circumstances surrounding it. Newspaper clippings; letters; photographs: Maria, looking very young and nothing like her older self, holding a dark haired baby. The headlines on the newspapers read: “MIRACLE CHILD BORN MYSTERIOUSLY” “FIRST CHILD BORN WITHOUT GESTATION” “WORLD WIDE PHENOMENON CAUSES MIRACLE CHILD”

Then there was the other documents: letters to and from the hospital, lawyers, the church... and a business card for one Reginald Hargreeves. What the hell was going on?

“Faith?!” Matilda called from the living room. Faith cursed again and bundled the papers into the duffle bag. She didn’t have long and she knew it. To confirm, Matilda called, “The child services just called. They’ll be here in the next twenty minutes.”

Out the bedroom window it was.

Faith shouted a hastened ‘thank you’ to Matilda, hooked the duffle bag onto her shoulder and dived under her parents mattress for the envelope of spare cash her father kept ‘in case of emergencies’. There were a few hundred dollars in the paper folds and she shoved that into the bag before creeping swiftly to her own bedroom at the end of the hall.

It wasn’t much, a white room of plain furniture that resembled a padded cell, and numerous bibles on shelves, one for every birthday. Faith ignored these as she opened her wardrobe and pulled out three of her everyday outfits, leaving the church dresses behind and tossing them on top of the papers in the duffle bag. Her mind was reeling with what the newspapers had meant, but she didn’t have time to stop. She threw the small selection of fictional books that she kept under her bed like porn into her bag, a notebook she had used as a journal, her laptop and charger and, finally, with hesitation, the rosary hanging from her bedpost. She zipped up the bag, threw on her coat and, with one last look to the room that had been her home for ten years, threw up the window and shimmied out onto the drainpipe. She had spent so long dreaming of escape that she knew the perfect route.

Down the drainpipe, across the yard, over the back-fence and, keeping low to the park, through the woods at the parks edge to the main road. Her heart was racing as she thought of all she was leaving behind. She was sixteen, a minor, and she had never been further than her town. But now she was free. Her parents were dead. Her feet padded silently in her best boots as she emerged onto the asphalt of the main road and thumbed a car to take her to the next town over so that she might take a bus far away. She had it planned out. She would go North, walk to the next town, get on a different bus and head back South, all the while trying to throw off the scent of the child services.

“Where are you heading to?” The woman who had picked her up asked as they drove through the darkness. “You look all dressed up.”

“I have family up in King City.” She lied fluently. “My Mom has sent me up there because my uncle is sick. She’s working so she couldn’t take me to the station.” It was getting easier and easier to become someone new now that she could leave her old self behind.

“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that. My sister lives up there.” The woman said. Faith offered her a smile whilst she panicked internally. “The Cavanaughs. What’s your surname, petal?”

Faith looked down at the semi-open zip of her duffle bag. The spine of one of her books were facing her: Winter Blues by Vidya Grant.

“Winter.” She said confidently.

“Ah, I don’t know any winters.”

“No,” Faith smiled, “It’s not too common.”

“No,” The woman agreed, “It’s not.”

They drove in silence whilst Faith considered her new surname. If she was going to invent a new life for herself she should take on an entirely new persona... Not just Winter but _Vydia Winter_. As for where she was going really...

Toronto.

That’s where she would go to start anew, Toronto. Vydia Winter would become Toronto’s newest resident. She would live in a small flat, minimal rate, she would get a small job, keep her nose clean, learn how to live her life for herself.

And she did. For two years she successfully avoided children’s services as she worked part time for a newspaper firm. She dyed her hair a light shade of silver and cut it for the first time in her life, she learnt how to _be_. And, when she turned eighteen, she no longer had to hide. She took a proper job on the paper for which she had made coffee for two years, but this time as a journalist. She was very good at it, but even though she had a few companions on the paper she was still lonely, still invisible. Every morning she woke up expecting her past to catch up with her. All the while those newspaper clippings spoke to her in the late nights but she could not bring herself to dig the old duffle bag out from her closet. She wasn’t ready to learn the truth, not yet.

But then the truth caught up with her.

Then, one morning shortly after her eighteenth birthday, two things happened that would change her life forever. First, she found out exactly how the word ‘invisible’ was the perfect description for her, and second, she found out who Reginald Hargreeves was, and why he was so important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The Umbrella Academy fandom seems to be a lovely fandom and I'm so happy to be part of it. 
> 
> If you have criticism please make it constructive <3


	3. Part Three: The Prodigal Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vydia Winters, now 23, is making a career for herself in Toronto. But she is struggling to understand perhaps the most significant part of herself. When she investigates a murder and runs into him... one of them... she feels now is the time to embrace who she really is.

**_Toronto, Canada: 2012_ **

The body was laid out for all the world to see, despite the rain falling and the ogling crowd. As always the police were not too good at doing their job. There was too much noise; too much attention being drawn to the suspiciously slain body of the ‘upstanding’ citizen laid out in front of the florists like it was nothing. It was into the ogling crowd that a darkly clad figure slipped, grateful as she always was for the cover of the onlookers. The only slither of colour about her appearance was her silver hair and the red lipstick she was never seen without. Other than that, she was almost invisible.

Vydia Winter pulled her black collar up against her fair skin and tried her best to blend in. This was a well practiced action as she, as always, pursued the scoop on the ‘out-of-the-ordinary’ crime of downtown Toronto. She was a damn good journalist, despite being only 23 years of age. She worked for herself and sold her stories to the highest bidders, and they were always more than happy to pay because the dirt she dug up was good – great, even. Nobody knew how she managed it so flawlessly. The journalists who failed to get the detail she did always looked on in jealousy at the young start-up who was ridiculously beautiful in an unusual way. She definitely stood out with her white-blonde hair and bright green eyes. She always drew attention and not always for the better. Vydia Winter was a very private person, it was true. Nobody had even heard of her before seven years ago, but she had a trick up her sleeve that nobody but herself would ever know about, one she had never shared with anyone. Until today.

Take this case for instance: broad daylight, man turns up dead outside the florist with no sound of a scuffle, no sign of an attacker, just an all silver knife sticking out of the man’s back. The police had been called and a small crowd had formed. The man had not been IDed, though the whispers through the crowd were that he was wanted for something awful. No journalists were being allowed anywhere near but that wasn’t going to stop Vydia Winter. It never did.

The florist was situated in the middle of a bundle of shops that were connected by the same fire escape which led to a balcony. The balcony was empty save for a very still man dressed in all black with an oversized duffle coat that nobody but Vydia seemed able to see. He was simply staring at the body, glowering almost. He intrigued Vydia more than any other. Why was he allowed on the balcony when the buildings were off limit? He was blending in to the shadows as though the police just simply had not seen him. Something about him told her the man had secrets.

And Vydia was going to find them out in her way. It was her job, after all.

She pushed through to the other side of the crowd as it stood by the gap between the two blocks. The crowd wasn’t interested in this alleyway as it wasn’t where the body or the drama was. It would prove perfect for what Vydia needed.

The thing about Vydia Winter was she was she was not a normal young woman. Not by a long shot. She had been born on October 1st 1989, as billions of baby across the world were, but her birth had been unusual in that her mother had not been pregnant before the day began. Yet, her religious, emotionally abusive, parents had always told her she was a miracle child sent by God. She never believed it. When they died shortly after her 16th birthday she had fallen down a spiral, triggered by a business card in her father’s belongings, the address of a Sir Reginald Hargreeves. She had tracked down Reginald Hargreeves but, after seeing how cruel a man he was, she had decided against directly addressing him. Instead she vowed to watch him carefully from afar, to do her job and keep tabs on him all at once. From there Vydia had learned about the Umbrella Academy: six special children who had been born on the same day as she who possessed special powers for inexplicable reasons.

Shortly afterwards she had discovered what her own power was.

It was this power that she utilised in her career as a journalist and it had come in useful on more than one occasion.

Slipping into the alleyway she pulled her clothes around herself, grateful that they too absorbed her power, and closed her eyes. It took a great deal of concentration to get it right and to sustain it, something she had learnt the hard way, but once she did she could slip past the police tape easily. And she did just that, walking through the crime scene as if it was nothing. She was nothing: nothing but air as her invisible form climbed the fire escape to the balcony where the man was blending into the shadows.

He was about six foot, Latino, with scars on the side of his head and a dark expression in his eyes. In his hand he held a knife that he was turning over and over. It matched the knife that was protruding from the corpse below. And Vydia knew exactly who he was.

Number 2. Diego Hargreeves. The Kraken.

One of them.

Vydia’s breath caught in her throat in a gasp that she instantly regretted. The man’s head flicked to where she was standing, his eyes meeting her invisible ones as if he could see through her power. For seconds that felt like minutes she stared back at him, praying she was still invisible. She had never been taught to control her power and she prayed now was not a time when it failed her.

After what felt an hour he looked away and back to the street below. Vydia let out a sigh of relief and controlled her breathing as she watched him survey the corpse, then decide he had lingered too long and turned to where Vydia was standing. She barely had time to step out of the way before he was descending the fire escape that she had just climbed. He smelled strongly of something... nice? It made Vydia’s head spin.

She forced herself to focus as she followed him down the stairwell, fighting to keep her footsteps silent to match her invisible form. She followed him as he darted into the shadows and skirted the side of the building, a pathway the police seemed to have missed. He had turned his collar up and kept his head down as he left the crime scene.

Vydia faltered. She wanted to follow him, to learn more, but she knew how much danger she would be in if she couldn’t sustain her form. She glanced back at the corpse and made up her mind.

For years now the call of the Umbrella Academy had been strong. Even if Reginald Hargreeves had seemed cold and heartless, too cold and heartless for her to even want to contact, did that mean they all were?

She followed Diego through the shadows and out onto the parallel street. He dropped his collar and walked down the street as if nothing had happened. Vydia followed at a ten pace distance as Diego led her into the centre of the town. She stopped as he climbed the steps to the police station. She watched from behind a tree as he hesitated and then went inside, she wondered if he was going to turn himself in. She didn’t feel that was the reason. He intrigued her, that was for sure.

She blinked, bringing herself back into existence and scaring a squirrel in the tree above her. She watched as it scurried away into the undergrowth, wondering what to do for the best. Maybe this was all a sign. Maybe now was the time to approach the Umbrella Academy, or at least the members who remained. Maybe they might be able to get her the help she so craved, the understanding she needed.

And there was something about Diego’s intense eyes...


	4. Part Four: Resist the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vydia meets Diego Hargreeves properly.

**_Toronto, Canada: 2012_ **

For days Vydia followed Diego Hargreeves around Toronto. She assumed he hadn’t turned himself in as he was still out and walking free, and she wondered why he had visited the police precinct in the first place. As far as she knew from her intensive research on the Umbrella Academy, he had been kicked out of the police academy two years ago. Was he simply now a rogue on their payroll? He intrigued her, that was for sure.

It was on the fifth day that he cottoned on to her following him. She hadn’t always done it invisibly, and he had noticed the silver haired, lipsticked woman more than once. It was raining, as it often did in Toronto, and after he clocked her for the third day in a row, he ducked into an empty coffee shop. It was a regular haunt of his, nothing she would find untoward. The owner acknowledged him and promised his usual as he slid into a booth and waited for her to follow.

It didn’t take Vydia long to enter behind him, taking her time ordering before sitting in a booth across the room from him. He busied himself reading the menu and watching her over the top of it as Vydia mimicked his movements.

The owner brought them both their coffees and then headed into the backroom.

Silence.

Then, as Vydia made to take a sip of her coffee, a knife flew past her nose and stabbed into the wall to the side of her head.

She started and looked over to where he was glaring at her.

“Are you often in the habit of throwing knives at unsuspecting strangers?” Vydia pulled the knife from the wall with great difficulty.

“Who are you?” He demanded in a husky tone. His eyes were not as dark as she had expected: there was a kindness in them, and a sadness. 

“I think you’ve made a mistake...” She started, but he growled.

“You’ve been following me for almost a week now. Who are you, what do you want?” He pulled out another knife.

“Is your base instinct to throw those things at the slightest threat?” Vydia skittered the other one across the floor back towards him.

“Are you? Are you a threat?” Diego asked, picking it up.

“Do I look like a threat?” Vydia asked, trying to appear innocent.

“Threats come in many shapes, sizes and genders.” Diego replied.

Vydia sighed, her eyes focused on how he was turning the knife in his hand. She swallowed her pride and took a deep breath. “My name is Vydia Winter.” She said gratefully, “You’re Diego Hargreeves.”

He frowned as though he and his entire family were not famous enough for her to know his name, or that him throwing a knife at her hadn’t made it obvious.

“What do you want?” He replied. “I’m too busy for you to be stalking me.”

“I’m a journalist.” Vydia said. “Freelance.”

“And you think I’d make a good story?” Diego raised his scarred eyebrow.

“I know you killed that man outside the florist.” She pressed, her heart racing. She prayed her emotions didn’t flick her switch.

He stared at her. “So what, you thought you’d hand me in?”

“No,” Vydia shook her head, “I’m not even going to run that story. I just...” She sighed, “...why? Clearly you’re volatile but... broad daylight?” She knew she shouldn’t be provoking him.

Diego, however, did not argue. “He deserved it.” Diego replied in a grunt, “He’s a predator. Or, he was.”

Vydia nodded, her eyes focused on him. “So the vigilante stories are true. You, Number 2, left the Academy to pursue crime in your own way.”

“How do you know so much about me?” Diego said suspiciously.

“Oh,” Vydia bit her lip. She didn’t want to reveal her secret if she could help it. “I’ve, er, been following the Hargreeves family for as long as I’ve been in the field.”

“Why? We’re nothing special.”

“Are you kidding?” Vydia replied. They were still sitting on opposite sides of the room but she could see him softening. “You’re the Umbrella Academy. You’re the most special...”

“The most dysfunctional.” Diego shook his head. “Look, if you want to run a story you’ve got the wrong Hargreeves. I haven’t spoken to my family in four years.”

“So I heard.” Vydia bit her lip. “Maybe I don’t want to run a story on the Hargreeves family. Maybe I just want to understand you.”

“Why?” Diego scoffed. “Why waste your time?”

“Because as much as you don’t want to admit it, you are special, Diego.”

He looked up at her as she said his name, his eyes softening as though she had somehow broken through his barriers.

Vydia took the opportunity to get closer. She stood up and moved to the table closer to him. He flinched as she sat down but didn’t move to hurt her.

“I know what it’s like to grow up somewhere you don’t think you belong.” Vydia said softly. “And, I don’t know what I want from you exactly. I just... when I saw you at the crime scene, I knew I wanted to know you. I can’t explain it.” She held out her hand. “Shall we start again? Vydia Winter.”

Diego looked down at her hand and then met her eyes. The expression on Diego’s face wasn’t anger: it was almost regret. “Diego Hargreeves.” He said heavily. “You’re lucky.” He said, confirming his expression as his fingers closed around hers and he shook her hand. There was a sadness in his face now that Vydia’s heart panged for. She had felt that sadness: the sadness of parental abuse and neglect.

“Am I?” Vydia asked. It suddenly felt like she had known Diego her whole life, their fingers still entwined. “I would have taken brothers and sisters over being the miracle child sent by God.” Vydia scoffed and folded her arms, all fear leaving her. “My parents were religious nuts.” She swallowed and released his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you properly, Diego. I’m sorry I stalked you.” 

Diego tilted his head to one side as he looked at her. She was very ethereally beautiful. The vulnerability in her face made him want to drop his guard entirely. He slid his knives back into his belt. “I’m sorry I threw a knife at you.” He felt at ease with her in a way he couldn’t explain. She got it, she understood.

“Maybe work on your people skills.” Vydia smiled. She had a small gap between her front teeth that made her even cuter.

“I’ve never really had any.” Diego let out a small laugh. He, too, felt he had known her his whole life.

He smiled a little at her and Vydia wondered if he was as intrigued by her as she was excited by him. She didn’t care. This was Diego Hargreeves: he was like her, the first person like her she had met.


	5. Part Five: The Smooth Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vydia and Diego prepare to go on their first date, but Diego's past intervenes.

**_Toronto, Canada: 2012_ **

Being friends with Diego Hargreeves was eye-opening. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of meeting for coffee, Diego telling her all of his vigilante adventures whilst she tried to write articles about mundane things. Although what they were doing was not dating, something Diego had made clear, they were nonetheless getting closer and it scared them both. Vydia had even met Eudora Patch, Diego’s ‘ex’ (or the closest thing he had to it) when she had been investigating a string of robberies. In fact, Vydia’s investigative skills proved to be of use to Diego when he was looking for crimes to solve. It gave her a thrill to be operating this way. She had always been law-abiding, yet not once did she feel Diego was a bad influence.

Their friendship, however, had not gone unnoticed, and there were plenty of people in the city that Diego had pissed off. Therefore there were plenty of people who would love to use Vydia as leverage.

“Do you want to go bowling?” Diego asked out of the blue after they met in the empty cafe and sat in companionable silence.

Vydia looked up from her newspaper and frowned at him. “Bowling?”

“Yeah.” Diego suddenly felt like taking it back. “I used to go with my siblings as a kid...” He fingered the salt and pepper and avoided her eye contact. “I wondered if you wanted to go?”

“Like...” Vydia’s eyes sparkled, “Like a date?” Her mouth was dry and she was putting all of her effort into not flickering out of sight. She hated that her power was tied to her emotions. She, not for the first time, wished she had been taught to control it. She clenched her fists under the table to focus.

“Er, maybe.” Diego was avoiding her eye still. “If you want.”

Vydia smirked. “No.” She said, still smiling. He looked at her so quickly it was a wonder his neck didn’t snap. She giggled at his expression. “Not until you ask me properly.”

He smiled and pursed his lips, seeing her game. She pushed the newspaper to one side and put her hands on the table, her thumbnails digging into her fingers to keep herself visible. She forced herself to meet his eye, Diego, the man she had come to care a lot for over the last few weeks.

“Vydia.” Diego sighed and bit his lip. He cleared his throat and lightly touched her hand. She started as his rough fingertips graced her soft skin. “Will you,” his eyes met hers, “go on a date with me. Bowling.”

Vydia pretended to think about it as he watched, his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes filled with anguish.

“Of course I will.” She smiled widely.

Diego let out a sigh of relief. “Tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good.” She faltered, “Wait, your aim thing... is it just knives or is it bowling balls too.” She narrowed her eyes. Her hands were still on the table and his thumb was still inches from hers.

“I’ll close my eyes.” He promised. “Just for you.”

He smiled at her and then turned to his jacket to get out his wallet. In the split second he looked away Vydia flickered out of existence and then returned. She breathed out, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully nobody did. She knew she would have to tell him at some point, but things were so good right now she didn’t want to complicate it. She just had to make sure she didn’t flicker on the actual date and they would be solid.

The following night couldn’t come fast enough. Vydia tore through the wardrobe of her tiny apartment trying to find something to wear. Up until now he had seen her in her work clothes: sensible suit trousers and blouses. This was something new, something different. She rarely wore dresses but this called for one. Not that she thought it would go well with bowling shoes. She settled on an off the shoulder, white skater-dress. At least it would contrast his need to always wear black.

She was early to the bowling alley. She had been so nervous that she had gotten ready hours early and had paced her apartment trying to force herself to stay visible. At least taking the bus had given her something to do, but now she was alone outside the bowling alley half an hour before they had agreed to meet. She hadn’t worn a thick jacket and it was cold. She nibbled her thumb knuckle and fought the urge to flicker. Why was she so nervous? She had hung out with him enough times for them to be natural together. This time, however, it was different. There were provisos to a date. She wondered if he was as nervous as she was. She perched on the wall outside the bowling alley and set her bag on the wall beside her, the handy old battered black one that she carried everywhere.

“Vydia Winter?” A voice said from beside her. She turned, broken from her thoughts, to see a man in his mid-30s with a scraggly beard and his hood pulled up.

“Can I help you?” Vydia asked through narrowed eyes.

“You’re the journalist, right?” The man pushed. Vydia cocked her eyebrow and nodded. “Doing the story on Diego Hargreeves.”

“Yeah... kind of.” She replied cautiously. It was growing dark and there were few people around.

“Good.” The man smiled. He was missing a few teeth as he whistled suddenly, making Vydia jump.

Before she knew it, a van had pulled up and she was being forced into the back of it, the door slamming shut before she had time to scream.

Diego arrived twenty minutes early. He was so nervous and part of him felt she would be too. He stood by the wall, arms folded, and looked both ways up the street. There was hardly anyone in sight. Maybe he had been wrong, maybe she wasn’t as nervous as him.

For twenty-five minutes he waited and she didn’t show up. He didn’t know her well, but he did know she was never late for anything.

He pulled out his cell and dialled her number. He could hear an answering phone ring not far from where he stood.

Then his eyes fell on the bag on the wall. He recognised it, knew it was hers. He snatched up the bag and looked around. He was alone on the street. Where the hell was she? And was she okay?

He dialled a second number in his phone.

“Patch,” He said as soon as she answered, “I need a favour.”

“What, Diego. I’m busy.” Eudora replied.

“I think a friend of mine has been kidnapped.” He looked up and down the street again. Why, on the one day he wasn’t wearing his knife belt?

“Are you sure she didn’t just abandon you?” Eudora replied, “Like any smart woman.”

“This is serious, Patch. She was here and now she’s not.”

Patch sighed. “Where are you? I’ll access the CCTV.”

Diego thanked her and gave her the address. He knew something like this would happen. This was precisely why he never got close to anyone.

He tried to hang on to the fact she could handle herself, that he wasn’t her protector. But then, this was a whole other world to the one she was used to. This was the world of superheroes and supervillains, and she was just a journalist.

Wasn’t she?


	6. Part Six: Whenever I Am Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vydia and Diego have a very different type of first date and he finds out her secret.

**_Toronto, Canada: 2012_ **

Vydia had been blindfolded and bound in the back of the dark van. It had been so dark, even, that the fact she was flickering in and out of visibility had gone unnoticed. She had been in there with two men in leather jackets speaking to each other in low, gruff voices. Occasionally they would raise their voices to address the driver, the man to whom Vydia had spoken, but mostly they spoke to each other in hushed tones. Vydia had kept quiet as she tried to make sense of the situation.

She had always been law-abiding, had never stepped out of trouble and had conducted her work in a professional manner... until she met Diego.

After they blindfolded her, she listened hard for any word of ‘Hargreeves’ or anything associated with them. Nothing, but she didn’t know what else it could have been.

Now, as they removed the blindfold, she was in what appeared to be the ramshackled second floor of an old building. She was still bound with her hands behind her back, forced to her knees as they moved around her. The only light was a bare bulb far above her head. It appeared to be what had once been an apartment, though now the only furniture was a couch in the middle of the room that had seen better days and a spindly table upon which the men – the three from the van and then three more - were laying out their... well, they looked like guns.

Vydia gasped and tried to keep control of her thoughts as fear threatened to engulf her. She stared straight ahead and focused her breathing. The last thing she wanted was to give away her only asset.

Eventually, after much argument, the men seemed to remember that she was there. The one who had approached her outside the bowling alley walked over and gripped her jaw roughly.

“So sorry about this, princess.” He said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is nothing personal.”

“It sure feels it.” Vydia replied sharply, pulling her head out of his grip. He smirked and gripped her again.

“Unfortunately you’re a means to an end. We want Hargreeves, not you. You just happened to be a way in.” He held up a newspaper in his other hand. “Personally I’m a fan of your writing.”

He drew Vydia’s attention to an article she had written recently about an illegal gambling ring that had been thwarted by Diego. He had let her write a story about it, and now it was biting her in the ass.

“Well, it’s always nice to meet a fan.” Vydia snarled in response. She met his eye, focusing on staying visible, “He won’t come, you know. He’ll just think I stood him up.”

“Was tonight a date?” The man asked. “Terribly sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “You could do much better than Diego Hargreeves.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Vydia replied.

“Then you’re not as smart as I thought.” The man punched her down and threw her article down at her, walking away. Vydia swallowed hard, tasting blood and watched as he turned his back on her again. Now would be the perfect time...

As if written, the lightbulb above her head suddenly smashed. She turned her head to avoid the worst of the glass shards and smirked as the room was plunged into darkness.

“Lights!” One of the men cried.

It was now or never.

Vydia blinked up her eyes and flickered from visibility, stepping through her arms so her bonds were in front of her and crawling across the floor. She wrapped her bound hands around the knife that had skittered across the floorboards after smashing the bulb. She heard two thumps as knives found their targets and two of the men fell before a lamp was ignited and flickered.

“Where’s the girl?!” The main man shouted back, looking to where Vydia had been knelt moments before. Her blood was still on the boards but she was nowhere to be seen. The man cried out as a knife imbedded itself in his arm and Diego climbed through the window, landing on the floorboards like a cat.

“It’s Hargreeves!” One of the men shouted as a knife sailed clean past his face.

“No shit!” The man shouted back through his cries of pain.

“Where’s Vydia?!” Diego demanded, rolling out of the way of the bullets that rained down on him.

“I have absolutely no idea!” The man shouted back.

One of his men gasped and fell as a knife imbedded itself into his back. Three down, three to go. Diego frowned, knowing he hadn’t thrown it. The men didn’t take long to wonder as they fired on him again. He dived out of the way and launched another knife, felling another of the men. One stupidly threw his knife back to him and he returned it just as quick, hitting the man in the neck. Four down... where was Vydia?

“I’m going to ask you again...” Diego landed punches on the man who threw himself at him, “Where is she?”

“Honestly!” The main man pulled the knife from his arm, “It’s like she just disappeared.”

“Impossible!” Diego shouted.

“Not exactly.” Vydia replied, jumping up at the main man, flickering back into sight and wrapping her still bound wrists around his neck, pulling them backwards to strangle the man. Diego stared at her as he punched out the man he was fighting. “Diego,” Vydia panted, “when you’ve finished gaping...”

“Right.” Diego threw a knife at the man and brought him down. Vydia rolled away from him and lay on the boards, panting. Diego was still staring at her as he reached down to pull her to her feet. For a moment she stood close to him, both of them panting. “You were invisible.” He stated the obvious.

“Surprise.” Vydia shrugged sheepishly.

“You’re like me?”

Vydia nodded. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was born the same day as you. October 1st, 1989. My parents thought I was a miracle from God but... I knew better.” She gestured at her bound wrists. “Can you...”

“Sorry.” Diego cut her bonds and, slowly, she snaked her arms around his neck. For a moment he simply frowned at her, trying to make sense of it all. Then, slowly, he pocketed his knives and his hands found her waist. Blood from her busted lip had dripped down onto her white dress but she still looked the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Vydia whispered. “It’s a big deal... you know?”

“I know.” Diego’s eyes darted between hers. They were so close.

“Some kind of first date, huh?” She smiled softly.

“It’s kind of fitting.” Diego didn’t break his eyes from hers. “I feel like every moment with you is going to be an adventure.”

“Sounds good.” Vydia smiled up at him, inclining her head slowly to indicate what she wanted.

He looked in her eyes once again before leaning down. His lips met hers. Not a lot of this night had made sense but this... this made more sense than anything he had ever known. 


	7. Part Seven: Hidden in my Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego learns a little about Vydia's past and they look to the future.

**_Toronto, Canada: 2012_ **

“So, this is your place?” Vydia asked as Diego showed her down into the basement he rented from the gym where he worked. Vydia hesitated on the stairs and looked around at the tiny room. It felt cosy, and was as gloomy as Diego tried to be. Vydia couldn’t help but giggle.

“It’s not much, but it’s better than where I came from.” Diego moved some abandoned laundry in an attempt to declutter the cluttered room.

Vydia giggled. “It’s great.” She made the last few steps to the bottom stair, cradling herself in his jacket.

“Are you okay? You’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Diego turned to her, suddenly attentive.

“I’m fine, Diego.” Vydia shook her head and smiled.

“I’m sorry our date got ruined.”

“Will you stop apologising?” Vydia chuckled. “You’ve nothing to apologise for.”

“If I’d have been there.”

“You were.” Vydia put her arms around his neck as he approached her. She wasn’t even his level on the step, still looking up at him. He slid his hands around her waist and looked her over.

“You handled yourself pretty well.” He said.

“I have no idea how.” Vydia sounded surprised. “I’m not exactly trained.”

“You know more than you think you do.”

“I did some kickboxing when I moved to the city.” Vydia shrugged. “Figured a country bumpkin on her own would be easy picking.”

Diego narrowed his eyes, frowning.

“What?” Vydia questioned.

“Nothing, I just... I just realised I hardly know anything about you. The real you, the you you were before I met you. We mostly just talked about me.”

Vydia swallowed. “I’m a journalist, it’s my job to learn about others and ignore myself.”

“Do you not think if we’re dating I should know where you came from?”

“We’re dating?” Vydia asked.

“You kidding? You don’t kick a gangs ass together without it becoming a thing.” Diego chuckled. He surveyed her face. She smiled and inclined her chin to kiss him softly. “And you definitely don’t do that.”

“True.” Vydia smirked. “I don’t remember you asking though.”

“Vydia Winter,” Diego’s voice was a growl as he held her closer, “will you go out with me.”

Vydia made a face as though thinking about it, then smiled. “Si.”

“Bueno.” Diego replied, kissing her again. No sooner had his lips touched hers however he was gone again, leaving her to catch her breath as he moved over to where he had a little kitchen set up. “Coffee?”

“You’re so unpredictable, Hargreeves.” Vydia laughed, stepping down to the ground and surveying the framed newspaper articles.

“I’m the unpredictable one?” Diego asked over the sound of the coffee pot. “When were you planning on telling me you had powers?”

Vydia looked at him with a nervous expression. “When it came up?”

“When it came up?” Diego frowned at her. “You’ve known the whole time I have powers and you didn’t think I’d want to know if you...” His face broke into a realisation. “You used your power to stalk me, huh? That’s how I didn’t always notice you.”

“You make it sound like I was obsessed with you.” Vydia giggled nervously.

“Weren’t you?” Diego’s eyes sparkled.

“No. It was my job.” Vydia argued feebly. She was still wearing his jacket.

“Sure, sure.” Diego chuckled and handed her a mug.

“You just happened to be the most interesting...” Vydia’s own eyes sparkled as she took it. “I really was going to tell you.”

“Okay, I believe you.” Diego smirked at her. There was a pause as he watched her over his own drink. “Anything else?”

“Anything else what?” Vydia avoided his eyes.

“You have to tell me ‘when it comes up’?”

“Er,” Vydia played dumb, “Not that I can think of.”

“Come off it, Winter. I know next to nothing about you. Who are you really?” Diego sat on his bed. Vydia hesitated before perching on the chair beside it.

“Vydia Winter, journalist.” She replied coyly.

“Vydia.” Diego said, a hint of warning in his voice. “This is never going to work if I don’t know you. I don’t care if you have a past, Hell knows I do.”

Vydia sighed. She knew he was right, but she didn’t want to tell him everything. She looked down at the cup and ran her thumb over the edge of it, thinking. “I was born to Maria and Jacob. They were super religious and raised me as a miracle child on the outskirts of Toronto. I never went to school, had no friends and pretty much grew up invisible.” She looked at him as the penny dropped in his mind. “When I was sixteen they died and I...” She hesitated, not wanting to tell him about Reginald’s involvement, “I came to the city, got a job as an intern and a room in a modest apartment complex using the money my parents left me. That’s about it.”

“Sixteen?” Diego’s eyes widened as he looked at her, “You’ve been on your own for seven years?”

“Pretty much.” Vydia replied. She didn’t feel like telling him anymore than that, not yet. “I’m not sure if invisibility is my power or if it’s simply who I am.” She suddenly felt like crying, realising how much she had spent of her life alone.

He was frowning at her so intently Vydia was worried that he saw straight through her. However, as he set his mug down and gently took hers, she lost that thought. He gently took her hand and pulled her down beside him on the bed. She let him manipulate her in doing so, grateful for the touch. He gently brushed her white blonde hair out of her eye and grazed his fingers over her cheek.

“You’re not invisible to me.” He whispered.

Vydia blinked at him as he gently kissed her. It felt nice to be seen, and she really felt Diego did. She kissed him back, the kiss deepening and becoming stronger as her hands swept around his shoulders. His jacket fell from her shoulders and she paused.

“Diego.” She whispered as it got heavy and his hand swept her leg.

“Yeah?”

Her heart was hammering so hard she was surprised he couldn’t feel it. “You know I mentioned I was brought up religious and all?”

Diego looked at her, realising. “I see.”

“I’m sorry.” Vydia whispered tentatively.

“Why are you apologising?” Diego frowned. “I want you, Vydia, however long that takes.”

Vydia smiled at him gratefully and kissed him softly. “Where have you been my whole life?”


End file.
